


sunshine boy

by theafterimages



Series: bookstore au [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zitao and Sehun get out of the city for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunshine boy

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this back in 2013, then impulsively decided to dust it off and finish it for Sehun's birthday. It's late, I realize, but it took longer than planned to finish both of these. I'm very thankful to E & T for betaing!
> 
> The fic is set a few months after [one week](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3622377). This AU was originally written in 2013, so it’s all based on 2013 head canons, including fandom’s belief that Zitao’s family didn’t have a lot of money.
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/12543.html).

“Rich kid,” Zitao says enviously, leaning back against the sink full of pots he’d been washing until Joonmyun had interrupted him. He keeps scrolling through the photos Joonmyun took during his and Jongdae’s recent weeklong trip to the beach, one shot after another of sand and waves and their bright smiles. “I wish my parents had a beach house, too. Sehun and I could…” He bites his lip, looking around quickly to make sure there’s still no one else in earshot. He and Sehun have been dating quietly for almost five months now without anyone from the restaurant (well, anyone besides Joonmyun, who Zitao trusts completely) catching on. Given how strict Joonmyun’s uncle is with his policy against Paradise employees dating each other, they plan to keep it that way.

Joonmyun touches his arm reassuringly. “You could stay at ours. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”

Zitao’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Sure. You guys need a break, and my parents like Sehun.”

Right. Sehun’s known the Kim family for years. The thought of how they’d react to finding out about him breaking the restaurant’s rules makes Zitao’s stomach churn uncomfortably. 

“I’ll say Sehun’s going with a few friends or something,” Joonmyun continues, for once oblivious to the shift in Zitao’s mood. “Let me talk to them and then we can all figure out a week, okay?”

“Thanks, hyung,” Zitao says, and hugs him tight, heedless of how his damp apron presses against Joonmyun’s freshly pressed polo shirt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not like Zitao had planned to break the no-dating rule when he’d gotten hired at Paradise. Originally Sehun had just been a quiet, cold-looking boy who’d sat near Zitao during the employee orientation program. It hadn’t been until their first few shared shifts, trading occasional glances at each other while stationed on adjacent cash registers, that they’d really begun to talk to each other. Sehun had turned out to be so funny and cute that Zitao had begun to look forward to working with him more and more. By the time Sehun had invited him to hang out at his apartment after a shift, Zitao had been well on his way to a full-blown crush, and when he’d given in to temptation and kissed Sehun on the couch halfway through Iron Man, he’d known even then that there was no turning back; that however this worked out, being with Sehun would be worth it.

He still feels that way for himself. He just doesn’t want Sehun to have to face any of the consequences.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having lunch delivered from Paradise twice a week has become a typical routine for the bookstore employees. As usual, Zitao shelves books in record time before Sehun is due to arrive, so that he’s lounging behind the counter, talking to Yifan about last night’s basketball game, when he sees Sehun’s car pull into the parking lot.

Zitao and Sehun always steal a few minutes together, but first he has to hand out everyone’s meals. Zitao waits, trying to be patient, his own sandwich discarded on the counter. If that doesn’t speak volumes about his feelings for Sehun, he thinks wryly, he doesn’t know what will.

“What’s that?” Baekhyun asks abruptly.

“Nothing,” Jongdae says hastily, and Zitao looks over in time to see him tuck something into his back pocket.

Baekhyun’s lips curl into a mischievous grin. “Did Joonmyun write you a _note_?”

“Did you write me a note?” Zitao asks Sehun immediately.

Sehun gives him a disbelieving look. “Do I look like Joonmyun hyung to you?” he asks, scoffing when Zitao pouts at him in response.

The resulting chaos of Baekhyun and Chanyeol trying to pry the note away from a loudly protesting Jongdae gives Sehun and Zitao the opportunity to slip away to the kitchen. 

“I talked to Joonmyun,” Sehun says, leaning back against the extra refrigerator that they use to store the vending machine supplies. “He said we can go next month. He talked to his parents yesterday. Can you ask off?”

“Really?” Zitao hesitates. “Did they ask questions? About why it was just us?”

Sehun laughs. “After how many times Mrs. Kim’s told me I need to find a nice boy? I think they want us to be dating.”

“Even though we both work here?”

Sehun shrugs that thought aside. “The whole reason there are rules about not dating is because he thinks if anyone had a bad breakup they’d be dramatic about it at work, but that wouldn’t happen with us.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t be dramatic—” 

Zitao’s interrupted by disbelieving laughter from Sehun. “You’d be super dramatic. I meant we wouldn’t break up.”

Zitao can’t even take offense to Sehun’s first remark, not when he sounds so certain of the second. Zitao had been the first one to say that he loved Sehun, the first one to say almost everything. Things like that have always come easily for him, whereas Sehun had needed more time. But hearing them now… Zitao takes one step forward, then another, closing the distance between them. “Sehunnie?”

Sehun’s tongue swipes over his lips. “Yeah?”

Paradise’s dress code requires that they keep their shirts tucked in while on the clock, but right now Sehun’s flows over his waistband. It’s no effort at all for Zitao to slip his hands underneath, pressing against Sehun’s soft, sweat-slick skin. “Is work busy right now?”

Sehun pretends to think it over, tilting his head. Zitao can’t resist leaning in and trailing kisses along his jawline as Sehun’s hands come up to thread through his hair. “This is my last delivery right now,” Sehun says, the last word ending on a gasp as Zitao tugs his lobe between his teeth. “I could—stay a few minutes—”

“Yeah?” Zitao murmurs in his ear, delighted at how he feels Sehun shiver against him. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says breathlessly, turning his head and claiming Zitao’s mouth for a heated kiss.

Zitao knows they can’t get too carried away at the bookstore, obviously, even if there wasn’t a silent countdown. There are too many of his coworkers that could walk in, and Sehun really should go back soon; Joonmyun indulges them, but he has his limits. But it’s always too easy for Zitao to get lost in Sehun, in how he tastes and sounds and feels, and how he gives as insistently as he takes. 

So maybe it’s a lucky thing that the kitchen door swings open after a minute or two, punctuated by Baekhyun’s exclamation of, “Hey, Chanyeolie! Paradise even gives us a free show with our food!”

Luckily for Zitao, scoffing at Baekhyun has become something he can do without thinking. “You wish,” he says.

Sehun disentangles himself from Zitao, then presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should go. Come over later?”

“I will. Here, hold on.” Zitao smoothes Sehun’s hair quickly, Sehun obediently holding still until Zitao has him back in order. Zitao smiles, satisfied. “There. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll come over, too,” Baekhyun volunteers.

Zitao rolls his eyes at him. “Who wants _you_?”

“Lots of people want me!” Baekhyun insists as he follows them back into the store, bantering with Zitao the whole way to the counter while Sehun laughs at them, Sehun’s hand warm in Zitao’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yifan spends the first half of the afternoon in a meeting with the owners, so Zitao asks Minseok about the time off. Once that’s arranged, there’s one more that Zitao question has been working his way up to asking for the last few weeks.

“Is there any way I can start working some more shifts?” he asks, careful to sound casual.

Minseok shakes his head, although he looks reluctant. “You and Jongin already cover all the hours we need, and we’re just not busy enough right now to justify anyone working extra hours. I’m sorry. Maybe in the fall.”

“Maybe.” Zitao sighs. His school covers a significant portion of his expenses, thanks to his athletic scholarships, but he still has to pay for things like his meal plan and his textbooks, not to mention everything he needs for his car and anything else he wants to buy. His parents help him out sometimes, but he tries not to use any of their money if he can help it. Unfortunately the bookstore has never been able to offer him enough hours, which is why he’d gotten a second job at Paradise in the first place. 

Job-hunting is tricky right now, since summertime means there are so many local teenagers and even other college students looking for jobs, but it looks like he’ll have to start. The things he does for love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zitao hasn’t gotten anywhere with the job hunt by the time their week at the beach arrives, but he decides to put it out of his mind during the trip. Right now only one thing matters, he thinks as he sneaks a glance at Sehun, watching fondly as Sehun sings along to the radio, and it’s not his future job.

The Kims’ beach house is a modest size—one story, three bedrooms. Nothing too ostentatious, but quietly moneyed, much like Joonmyun’s life in general.

“New life goal,” Sehun says as they take it in, linking his free hand with Zitao’s. “To make enough money to buy one of these.”

“You should probably start by picking a major,” Zitao teases, and Sehun elbows him.

“Then again, we can always just keep staying here, if Joonmyun hyung will let us,” Sehun says.

The way Sehun says that so easily, like it’s a given that they’ll be together long term, still makes Zitao’s heart skip a beat. He brushes a light kiss against Sehun’s neck, tucking his smile against it for a moment, then pulls back. “Come on, we’d better bring in our stuff.”

“Do we have to?” Sehun immediately whines. “It was a long drive. We should rest.”

“You weren’t even _driving_ ,” Zitao says in exasperation, nudging him back towards the trunk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zitao’s pretty sure the bed in the master bedroom could fit half the bookstore staff. Not that that’s saying much, given how tiny most of them are, but still.

“We can unpack later,” Sehun says firmly, pushing Zitao back onto the bed as soon as he finishes putting fresh sheets on it. “Rest now.”

Given that Zitao’s been taking on extra shifts at the restaurant all month to afford this trip, not to mention how he was the one behind the wheel during the three-and-a-half-hour drive there, he doesn’t need much convincing. He promptly kicks off his shoes and crawls up the bed, his eyes closing as soon as his head hits the soft pillows. “Heaven,” he mumbles.

Sehun laughs and curls up against him, his bare chest pressed against Zitao’s arm. “We’re not even fucking yet,” Sehun says, and Zitao doesn’t have to open his eyes to know how Sehun’s smiling.

When Zitao stirs awake a few hours later, Sehun’s already up, tracing his fingertips in aimless patterns on Zitao’s stomach. “Hi,” Zitao murmurs and Sehun looks up immediately, eyes bright. Zitao knows that look, knows what he’s after even before Sehun straddles his waist.

“I’m tired,” Zitao says, just to see him pout.

“I’ll do all the work,” Sehun promises.

“What, you haven’t done enough riding for one day?” he teases. Sehun goes to swat at his arm and Zitao catches his wrist, then pulls him down to steal one quick kiss after another.

Sehun breaks away and grins triumphantly down at him as Zitao protests. “So, yes?”

“If you do all the work,” Zitao says with pretended reluctance.

“I will.”

He doesn’t. But it’s all right, Zitao thinks, as Sehun has probably known he would. He likes fingering Sehun open, seeing his face when Zitao presses against just the right spot, hearing Sehun’s noises and gasps for air and seeing how he loses track of everything but this, and knowing it’s all because of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zitao is the first one to wake up the next morning, as usual, and after padding through the house he decides to do his daily stretches outside. It’s quiet, since not many other people out and about yet, and Zitao can breathe easier than he has in weeks.

After a while he hears the door open and turns his head slowly to smile at Sehun, who’s shirtless and clutching a cup of coffee. His hair’s a wreck, like it is every morning. “Putting on a show for the neighbors?” Sehun asks, although his smirk slips a little when Zitao does an extra body roll as he straightens back up.

He ends up skipping his morning workout a few days later, though, when he tries to get out of bed and Sehun clutches at him, rolling over and pinning Zitao’s legs to the bed. “No, stay,” Sehun sleepily insists, and Zitao can’t say no.

“You’re so bony,” he grumbles, just for show, tightening his arms around Sehun’s waist as Sehun presses further against him, settling in for the long haul. “You need to eat more.”

“I would if you left any food for anyone else—” Sehun breaks off to protest when Zitao pinches his hip, and bites down on his collarbone in revenge when Zitao just laughs at him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I like this,” Zitao tells him later, when they’re curled up together on the couch, drowsily ignoring whatever’s on the TV. “Having you around all the time. Not having to go home later.”

“You don’t go home most of the time anyway,” Sehun reminds him with a short laugh.

“You know what I mean. It’s like we live together.” The contented warmth in Zitao’s chest flickers a little when he sees Sehun licks his lips, smile fading, but Zitao quickly presses on. “I’m not saying we’re ready for that. I just mean that when we are, when we do, I think it’ll be great.”

“I’m not the best to live with,” Sehun admits. “Like, I’m always forgetting to do chores or whatever. Jongin gets really annoyed.”

“I probably won’t be the best, either,” Zitao says, stroking his hand reassuringly down Sehun’s side. “Like I said, I’m not saying we should now. Just—one day, I’d like to. When we’re ready.”

Sehun nods and catches Zitao’s hand, linking their fingers together. “Yeah, me, too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a week that goes by too fast—long walks on the beach, trying to dunk each other in the ocean, Sehun leaning sleepily against Zitao’s back, arms looped around his waist, as Zitao fixes breakfast. Zitao hadn’t realized how much he needed this break, how much _they_ needed it, until they had it. Then again, he hadn’t realized how much he needed Sehun until he had him, either. Sehun takes a picture of Zitao walking along the beach, which Zitao promptly makes into his Instagram display picture; they don’t share the ones Sehun takes that night, when he decides he wants to immortalize the curve of Zitao’s back and his gasping, bitten red lips and how Sehun’s hand looks around Zitao’s cock.

The camera’s long since abandoned by the time Sehun tightens his grip on Zitao’s waist and comes, beautiful and blissed out and _his_ , and for a split second Zitao’s struck by the thought that this might be all he wants for the rest of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you want me to quit Paradise when we go back?” Zitao asks during their last night there, while they’re cuddling on the back porch steps, staring up at the stars.

Sehun twists around in his arms, his hands tightening on Zitao’s. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I know sneaking around is hard, and the Kims are your friends. I don’t want you to feel guilty, or resent me, or—”

“You can’t quit Paradise,” Sehun says firmly. “You need the money.”

Zitao shrugs, trying to play it off, like that’s not the argument that’s stopped him for months now. “I’ll still work at the bookstore. I can get by until I find another job.”

“They don’t give you enough hours for that.” He frowns at Zitao. “We’ll figure something out, okay? But you can’t quit because of me.”

“I want you to be happy,” Zitao says stubbornly.

“That would just make me feel guilty.” Sehun wets his lips. He’s long since stopped laughing and turning pink every time either of them gets even slightly sentimental, but every once in a while something still trips him up, like now. “I— _you_ make me happy. Okay?”

Zitao still knows something has to be done, if only because he doesn't think he can keep how happy being with Sehun makes him secret from anyone for much longer. But all that can wait until they get back. The warmth bubbling up in his chest at Sehun’s words can’t. “Okay.” 

Sehun twists further, enough to give him a quick kiss, and then resettles in his arms, his grip on Zitao’s hands tighter than ever. Zitao presses a kiss against the side of his neck. “I love you,” he murmurs in Sehun’s ear.

He can see Sehun’s mouth curve up into a small, contented smile. “I love you, too.”

That’s what matters, Zitao thinks. No matter how complicated it is, no matter how everything will work itself out, this is what matters. He loves Sehun, and Sehun loves him, and neither of them is going to let that go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Three summers later none of them work at Paradise anymore, but Zitao’s still with Sehun and they’re still close to Joonmyun. Joonmyun is happy to arrange for them to stay at the beach house again when Zitao tells him his plans, but Sehun’s the one who beats him to proposing on their first night there, down on one knee at the shoreline, anxious and sweet and all Zitao’s).


End file.
